


Seven Mornings

by serenyty



Category: She Loves Me - Bock/Harnick/Masteroff
Genre: During Canon, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Seriously this gets really fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:22:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7400539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenyty/pseuds/serenyty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven mornings in the life of Georg Nowack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dying to write She Loves Me fic for a while but wanted to wait until the live stream. A bit surprised I wrote in Georg's POV, since I identify so hard with Amalia, but Georg's such a sweetie that writing him came pretty easily.

Morning One:

Georg woke up to the sound of his alarm clock feeling the same way he had felt the night before. Georg was lonely. While this wasn't a new feeling, he felt it more keenly in the mornings after spending the evening with Mr. Maraczek and his wife. Seeing Mr. Maraczek dote upon his wife made the longing he had to find a companion grow even stronger. Georg didn't consider himself to be dissatisfied with his life - he mostly liked working at the parfumerie, he liked his coworkers most of the time (though Mr. Kodaly's antics were often more than a bit draining). He liked filling his free time with books, music, art. He wasn't out at cabarets or dance halls like Mr. Maraczek teased but he tried to fill his life with things that interested him. He just wished he had someone to share it with. 

As he got himself a cup of coffee, Georg glanced at the newspaper next to him. Among the contents of the page he saw the advertisements by the Lonely Hearts Club. While he had never given them much notice - they seemed so old-fashioned - he wondered if this might be an option. He was certainly no Kodaly when it came to meeting women (though Georg was frankly glad that he wasn't like Kodaly) and it seemed like these days the only women he met were the customers in the shop. 

After only a moments hesitation he sat down to start his advertisement. The fee wasn't too great, so even if he didn't meet anyone he wouldn't be much inconvenienced. He had nothing to lose.

Morning Two:

The fact that the first person on Georg's mind mind was Ms. Amalia Balash let him know that he was not going to have a good day. Ever since she had burst into the shop months earlier his life had gone from quiet and pleasant to loud and disagreeable. It wasn't all Ms. Balash's fault, he reasoned. She wasn't responsible for Ilona and Kodaly quarreling. Mr. Maraczek liked her well enough, so he didn't think it had anything to do with Mr. Maraczek's increasing animosity towards him. It just seemed as if her start at the shop made what was once a pleasant place for years no longer peaceful. 

If her behavior wasn't enough, if her constant criticism of his appearance, lateness, and overall lack of respect didn't irk him enough, Georg couldn't get this out of his mind. The other employees were no saints, but, for whatever reason, everything Ms. Amalia Balash did would stick with him, as if tailor-made to irk him, as if everything she did got in his head. Her smirk, her twinkling eyes, her dark curled hair, her mouth... Now that Georg thought of it, they were a bit low on tubes of Mona Lisa, that might be the perfect task to give her. If she was in the workroom, that might give him a respite.

With that thought he set to write Dear Friend a letter. He understood completely what she meant by the sentiment of "if it weren't for your endearing letters" as sometimes it felt like Dear Friend's letters were all that kept him going. He wanted to finish his letter before work, as he was dying to tell her that yes, he had read War and Peace, and wanted to know her thoughts about Pierre. 

Morning Three: 

Georg knew he should feel exhausted - he had barely slept the night before. He felt more energetic and wired than he had felt in months. He was nervous - would she be disappointed to meet him and see a clerk in a shop, a clerk who was one push from quitting his job. Would he be handsome enough for her? Would he be smart enough for her? They had yet to meet, but just from their correspondence he could tell that Dear Friend was his perfect match, a woman who continuously surprised and impressed him. That's why he was so nervous - Dear Friend brought so much joy and happiness to his life, and he was just him. 

Despite all his nervousness, Georg looked forward to this day. Not even Amalia Balash could bring him down.

Morning Four: 

Waking up after the disastrous date, everything came rushing to him immediately. He lost his job at Maraczek's. He had no job to go to. Amalia Balash was Dear Friend. Somehow, while he had been a clerk at Maraczek's for fifteen years, the last fact seemed the most significant. The woman who represented all that had gone wrong in his life over the past few months was the person he also believed could be the love of his life. He couldn't rationalize it. Dear Friend was kind, sweet, intelligent, thoughtful. Her letters inspired such joy, such depth of feeling in him. Amalia Balash also inspired a depth of feeling, but couldn't be more different. She was ill-tempered, irritating. Yet, having seen her waiting so patiently for her date (he could scarcely believe it was him), at the cafe with the book, waiting two hours for Dear Friend... A small part of him wondered if he had been wrong. 

Knowing that Amalia Balash and Dear Friend were one and the same was confusing. He had spent so much time preoccupied by both that his feelings for both were mixing and melding. He truly loved Dear Friend, there was no doubt of that. But what of Ms. Balash? Thinking of her time at the shop, it seemed they had jumped straight into their antagonistic relationship before they even got to know one another. He had thought he knew who Amalia Balash was, but learning she was Dear Friend made it very clear that he had only seen the surface of Amalia Balash. 

Morning Five:

The past weeks had made it clear to him - Amalia Balash was most certainly the Dear Friend he loved. It had not even been two weeks and, with only a small amount of kindness, his relationship with Amalia had blossomed into a tentative, sweet friendship. Even though they had only spent a few moments walking to the bus, a few hours having cups of coffee, and a few stolen arguments, he knew that he was just as much in love with her as before - more than he was before. Amalia hadn't changed - she was still late more often than not, she still argued if she didn't agree with a decision or idea. Still, somehow all the things that had driven him mad for the past months were becoming endearing. Will wonders never cease?

Now, with a measure of guilt, he knew that it could all come to an end this Christmas Eve. She had invited him over as Dear Friend and he accepted. She had also indicated that she would be inviting her friend from work as well in her most recent letter, and he knew that could only mean himself. While the fact she called him a friend in her letter was encouraging, he still didn't know how she would react to the news that Georg was her Dear Friend. Would she be happy? Would she be disappointed? 

All Georg knew was that he could not hold it off any longer. He couldn't stand it, and he needed to know where she stood. Tonight was the night he told Amalia everything.

Morning Six:

Georg woke with a grin. She loved him. He loved her. She knew, and not only was happy to find out that it was him, she had apparently hoped it was him. He was the luckiest man alive. 

After a few fleeting, delightful, stolen moments kissing at Maraczek's (which made Georg realize, with happiness, that they sparked physically as much as their personalities sparked), they both took the bus to Amalia's mother's home, where they had dinner and conversation. Explaining to Amalia's mother that Georg the coworker and Dear Friend were the same person took a little effort, but to his relief Amalia's mother seemed to approve of him. 

When the hour grew late Georg took his leave, but not before stealing a few more kisses outside the door. Georg couldn't stop smiling at the memory, and didn't think he could be happier. 

Morning Seven: 

Georg woke, not to his usual alarm or because of daylight, but to the feeling of soft kisses being pressed to his cheek and neck from the body curled up in his arms. Amalia. Just yesterday they had been married in a small ceremony, and now they were still basking in the glow of being newlyweds. 

"Good morning, Dear Friend," Amalia murmered, and Georg knew he wouldn't be lonely anymore.


End file.
